


Perilous Journey Filled with Death and Heartbreak

by WritingIsMyCoffee



Category: Final Space (Cartoon)
Genre: AU for season 2 where Gary has to go back in time a lot to try and get The Good Ending, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Anxiety, F/M, Gary is just really sad and lonely and I am also sad and lonely whats up, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, Memory Loss, Never specifically stated but it's important to me, Pan Gary Goodspeed, Panic Attacks, Some fluff bc I need it just as much as you all do, The title is so unorginal forgive me, Typical Final Space violence, it's just from episode 10, which will be tagged when they appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-06-14
Packaged: 2019-05-08 19:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14701029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingIsMyCoffee/pseuds/WritingIsMyCoffee
Summary: The timer from the corner of his visor winds down and HUE's monotone voice carries somberly in Gary's ears as he suffocates on a lack of oxygen, succumbing to the familiar darkness before being bathed in heavenly light. He's given a choice as always, eternal rest or a sentence of heartbreak, and Gary always allows himself to be broken.Or, Gary chooses to go back only to be back at the start of his adventure with a spotty memory and a lot of emotions.





	1. The Space Ship House

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I want everyone to be alive in the end, but I also want that angst y'know???
> 
> There's no real established plot for this; just a bunch of one-shots in the same AU. Basically I do a hit on Gary each chapter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gary makes a suggestion. Quinn improves on said suggestion. HUE reluctantly plays along.

“Picture this…a space ship house.”

There are an infinite amount of galaxies the likes of civilizations have yet to discover, each filled with their own wondrous beauties and scenic views, but the way Quinn chuckles at Gary’s silly suggestion is the most aweing sight he has ever gazed his eyes upon. The way her eyes scrunch up and her head tilts down towards her chest makes his heart flutter and his emotions sing. She looks at him with pure amazement, always surprised by the crazy words that come out of his mouth. “A _space ship_ house?”

Gary nods enthusiastically. He scoots over in his booth seat and wraps an arm around her shoulders. “Just imagine! We’d take the Galaxy One and make it an actual home instead of a metal turd pile. We’d have a kitchen that serves more than vitamin gruel, a private bathroom in each bedroom instead of the shared one KVN keeps welding shut, a-and actual living room instead of…no living room! Seriously, there’s no where on this freaking ship to place our delicate behinds!”

“Except for your captain’s chair,” she reminds him.

“PLEASE DO NOT ENCOURAGE HIM, QUINN,” HUE’s voice echoes through the communal dining area. The annoyed, almost parental tone only adds fuel to the fire, but HUE wouldn’t be everyone’s favorite AI if not for his consistent attitude. Call him the metaphorical glue that holds everyone’s rampant energy together on the same crumpled piece of paper. Or the long line of coding tying them all together by their ankles.

“Yes, please! More encouragement! C’mon, HUE, we all know it’s true,” Gary goats.

“IF YOU DECIDED TO RENOVATE THE GALAXY ONE INTO A SPACE SHIP HOUSE, GARY, YOU WOULD STILL NOT BE THE CAPTAIN. AS IT WOULD NO LONGER BE A FUNCTIONING SHIP, YOU WOULD HAVE TO GIVE THAT TITLE UP.”

“What?! Says you! My ship, my house, my rules!” Gary protests.

“Actually, it’s _our_ ship,” Quinn reminds him. “You can be the capital all you want as long as we don’t paint the ship something ugly.”

Gary gasps dramatically, a wide grin spreading across his face. “You wanna make a space ship house? W-With extra bathrooms and a living room and everything?”

“When this is over, I’d love nothing more than to kick back and relax for once,” Quinn muses as she leans into his side. Her head falls right into the crook of Gary’s neck, and his head carefully rests itself on top of hers. Despite their differences (in personalities and appearances), they mold together perfectly, adjusting into a position without any real thought about it. “Seems like we’ve been fighting for a _really long time_ at this point. I think we’re do for some domesticity.”

 _You have no idea_.

The thought breaking through Gary’s defenses before he can summon his cavalry to fight back. A perfect way to ruin a perfectly pleasant evening. Everything is so quiet right now, so _peaceful_ , and his mind had to go and ruin that little oasis in the middle of his scorching desert.

The battle shouldn’t happen for another week or so. They’ve got time. They have the bomb early, the resistance is at the ready, and they stand a fighting chance.

Avocato’s dead, which sucks. Little Cato is more closed off than usual this time around. He’ll need to work around those issues next time, if there is a next time. There is a fine gray area of moral thought when he thinks about that. A mixture of guilt for wanting all his friends in one safe basket and willing to throw away the earth if it means restarting and getting the happy ending he envisions at the end of all this.

If there’s a ying for every yang, then in Gary’s case there’s one up side to every down side. A give and take, an equivalent exchange if you will. It seems every time he is either trading the safety of the earth for his friends or vise versa. Whatever divine being or titan that has it out for him is doing a great job of making sure he has his cake but can’t eat it.

“Gary? You’re doing the thing.”

A violent sea of troubling thoughts is calmed by Quinn’s worried voice. “The thing?” he asks.

“The thing where you stare off into space and look all melancholy.”

A half-hearted grin stretches across his lips. “Well, we _are_ in space.”

Quinn gives him a look, the look that says Don’t Dodge The Question Boi, We Both Know I Can Grill You Into The Next Solar System. “Gary, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, just…thinking.” It’s not a lie, but it has the same corrosive-yet-oily feel rolling off his tongue. It practically leaves an aftertaste in his mouth.

The crease between Quinn’s eyebrows loses some of its tension. As Gary continues to stare back at her, too afraid to break eye contact, her hand finds its way into his. “Do you want to talk about it?”

God, he hates this. He hates the cycles where she opens up and is comfortable enough to let him talk about his problems and acts like the fate of the universe doesn’t rest on their shoulders. He hates the ease of her smiles and the gentle touches she graces upon him because he is just _so touched starve_ after five years and however many trips back in time his body has been. He hates how just as their conversations go from, “How do we close the breach?” to, “Oh my god, there was this one time me and my sister-“, they’ve already reached, “I’m not coming back.”

When she gives him the cold shoulder, it’s easier to get through the days, no matter how much it hurts. Days like these are the reason he almost wishes his body would drift away from the white light of redemption.

“I’d…prefer not to, if that’s cool.”

There’s a long pause, only filled by the low humming of the ship. Finally, Quinn gives him a small smile. “Okay.” The curve of her lips would be reassuring if her voice wasn’t laced with such disappointment. Who’s the one who needs to trust now, huh?

No, no it’s better if he doesn’t say anything. Gary’s learned that the hard way several times. Once he remembers something, he should keep it to himself, keep the others from trying anything risky. He couldn’t count on his fingers how many times Avocato would leave his explosives behind but Little Cato wouldn’t make it out, or how many times Quinn would go off to take on the Infinity Guard outpost on her own. Not to mention the times Mooncake ran away without a trace.

No matter the timeline or however close he lets his friends in, the truth must stay covered up. Gary can handle choking on his own CO2, losing an arm, getting impaled, shot, burned alive, shot out of the sky, crushed by floating debris, blown up, _whatever_.  He can take it all without ever batting an eye. What happens to him doesn’t matter in the long run, literally. But having to watch his family be torn apart again and again and again…

Quinn nudges his side gently. “Tell me more about the space ship house.”

“The house?” he asks.

“Yeah.”

 “Oh, okay. Well…t-there’d be this nice little rug you can wipe your nasty stuff off your boots when you walk in-“

“Uh huh.”

“And no KVN. I swear to God, there will be no KVN-"

“Of course.”

“And maybe we could put a nice, little fireplace in somewhere. Hey HUE, can we do that?”

“IT IS UNLIKELY YOU WOULD BE ABLE TO FIND A PROPER GAS OR VENTALATION HOOKUP FOR A FIREPLACE ON THE GALAXY ONE, GARY-“

Quinn clears her throat rather loudly.

“-BUT NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE. IT WOULD LOOK BEST IN THE OBSERVATION DECK, IF YOU DO PLAN ON ADDING ONE.”

Gary smiles. “Yeah, I’d like that. It’d be like the one at my old house. The bricks would be gross looking...but in a charming way,” he fantasizes fondly. “Oh! We could have a gaming room w-where we’d play cards and old arcade stuff!”

“Don’t we just do that here in the dining area?” Quinn asks.

“But this would be a _special_ room _just_ for gaming,” Gary informs her. “I’ve missed five years of new video games! That’s like…twenty in gaming years!”

She does the laugh again, the one that makes his stomach flip and the ache in his chest subside just enough to help him breathe again. “Okay okay, we’ll have a gaming room. What else?”

“Well…Little Cato will get his own room, and not just a little hideout in the ventilation system. A _real_ room for a _real_ kid. He…I…”

_You could see Avocato again, Gary. Keep it together. The kid’s gonna be fine next time._

“I’m gonna make sure he has somewhere to go that’s safe,” he manages to continue. “When my dad died, I…I kinda ran away from home and had a Han Solo phase up until I got arrested. If he needs to run off Fabulous Killjoys style for a bit, at least he’ll have the ship.”

The tears rise to his throat, but do not rise any further.

“And Mooncake-Oh crap, how could I forget about my little buddy?!” he blurts out before Quinn or HUE can say anything with even an ounce of sympathy. “Mooncake’s gonna have his own little space with a tiny little Mooncake bed and little Mooncake furniture and and and-!”

And he can see it. The space ship house. He can see it so vividly in his head he’s practically there. Mooncake flying around the ship, a radiant beam across his round face as he passes by each room. He passes Little Cato, who instead of being holed up in the vents and drowning in the thirst for vengeance is playing on a tiny game device it seems like a _normal god damn kid._ Then he’s farther down the hall in the dining hall and Avocato is here- _Avocato is there_ -cooking some kind of Ventrexian cuisine he assumes and _holy crap there’s a fully stocked kitchen now_. A real kitchen with real food and no vitamin gruel and when he turns his head-

Quinn is sitting in one of the booths, a thick book in her hands and a content look gracing her facial features. She’s not wearing a headband, instead letting her soft curls fall in whichever way they desire and frame her cheekbones. Instead of an old Infinity guard uniform she’s wearing t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants and the sight makes his heart stop.

He’s met the no-nonsense captain of the Infinity Guard and the independent badass lady she is without them, the one with a sister and a dog and a family and millions of stories to tell. The true Quinn he has only met in conversations, who is normally locked away by cruel circumstances and burdens no one should ever have to bear, is right here in their space ship house.

What he wouldn’t give to be there right now, maybe sitting across from her or helping Avocato cook or checking out the game Little Cato is playing or chasing Mooncake around or simply just living _peacefully_ for once in a long, long time.

The Quinn in this perfect fantasy world looks up from her page and meets his eyes. She smiles from ear to ear, laughs once again, and tells him, “It’ll be the best space ship house in the universe.”

And in the present, the current present, he answers, “It will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw avocato may or may not be in chapter 2 but you didn't hear that from me


	2. Burning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gary remembers. Avocato tries to concentrate. Mooncake saves the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise there will be fluffy chapters eventually, just hang with me here
> 
> WARNING: there's a character who has a borderline panic attack in this chapter so just stay safe y'all
> 
> Thank you for reading everyone btw!!! You all are so sweet <3

For as cold and unforgiving as space is, a broken AC unit is even harsher.

The Galaxy One, which is normally kept at a cool 76 **°** F, now feels like a sauna in the smack-dab middle of Hell. Beads of heavy sweat race down Gary’s backside and forehead, soaking into the elastic of his undergarments and stinging the corners of his eyes.

To make matters worse, the Galaxy One is closely orbiting a nearby sun, which means instead of being stuck in a metal can in mild discomfort, they’re all slowly being baked to death like hot potatoes.

There’s a muffled smack and Gary looks down from where he is standing to see Avocato trying to snap his fur-covered fingers. “Pulse driver.”

Gary reaches over to the toolbox on his left and winces. God, there are heat waves coming off the equipment now. This is almost as bad as that time he stared into a supernova for, like, twenty minutes. At least this time he isn’t having any traumatizing flashbacks or whatever. With his robot hand, he picks up the pulse driver and hands it over to his Ventrexian friend. It still hurts, but at least it won’t leave any permanent damage.

Avocato lets out a low growl as steaming metal makes contact with skin. “Damn, this is getting unbearable.”

“Oh, only now it’s unbearable?” Gary questions him. “At least you don’t have a freaking robot arm attached to your _bare skin!_ I’m like a roast Gary sandwich over here!”

“I’m going as fast as I can,” Avocato mutters in vexation. “It’s hard to repair something that’s been so dismantled I can barely tell what it is.”

Gary blows a raspberry and crosses his arms. “Leave it to freaking KVN. HUE, how much time do we have left?”

“YOU ALL HAVE APPROXIMATELY THIRTY NINE MINUTES TO GET THE SHIP’S COOLING UNIT BACK ONLINE BEFORE YOU ALL DIE FROM HEAT STROKE,” the AI graciously answers.

“Great, and how’s Quinn doing?”

“CAPTAIN AIRGONE IS STILL WAITING FOR THE LIGHTFOLD ENGINE TO RECHARGE FROM OUR LAST JUMP. SHE WON’T BE ABLE TO PILOT US TO SAFETY FOR ANOTHER FORTY MINUTES.”

Oh course it’s a one minute difference. Oh course. That number gets on Gary’s ever-loving nerves. The irritation itching up his skin crawls under his sweltering joints, turning him fidgety. He starts pacing around in a circle as Avocato works, trying to work off his negative energy.

One minute. One minute until they can blast off to safety. One minute until the cookies are done. One minute, one minute, one minute-

“Gary, would you STOP THAT?” Avocato snaps at him.

It’s like a tiny explosion goes off in Gary’s chest. He reels around, teeth mashed and barks, “Stop WHAT?”

“PACING! You’re boots are squeaking and I can’t focus!”

Gary shifts his foot a little out of spite and, huh, they are squeaking. A high-pitched wail of rubber against hard flooring. That’s all it is. A tiny, simple sound compared to the rush of spilling oxygen and the deafening boom of an anti-matter bomb. It’s nothing. It’s practically nothing.

It should be nothing.

“Look, just-” Avocato sighs sharply. “I’ve _got this_ , okay? If you’re so worried, go pace around outside. I _really_ need to focus right now. You got that, baby?”

His friend doesn’t even wait for a response, just goes back to trying to save all their lives. Like it really makes a difference at this point. Gary knows they save Little Cato soon; he doesn’t have an exact date but he can feel it in his gut. He also knows something bad happens to Avocato. Bad as in _no longer with us_ bad.

Having your memories come back to you at a snail’s pace is rough, but still having an almost muscle memory of what’s going to happen is agonizing. Sure, it can come in handy when the Infinity Guard is about to take over the ship and you think far enough ahead to turn off HUE and the SAMES for a few hours. Other times, you don’t remember there’s a bomb strapped to your best friend’s son’s back and you have to watch again and again as he’s blown into space with a gaping hole in his chest-

Oh.

So that’s what’s going to happen.

It’s hot. It’s hot. It’s so hot. Not nearly as hot as the blast. Not nearly as hot as the tears he tried to hide behind closed doors. He’s burning and he’s on fire and he’s nothing but ash now, being swept across the universe with every reset, every mistake, every _almost there_ and _not quite good enough_.

Good enough for me. Good enough for me. Well, what about good enough for him? What about that, huh? What does the whims of fate have against him that keeps him from earning that little happily ever after he’s worked so hard for? Why doesn’t he get to have a family? Why does he always have to end up _alone-?_

“Chookity?”

With a click of a switch, the beaters whipping away at Gary’s dark thoughts pull out of his mind and set him back into the present. From the corner of his eye, he spots a familiar green blob and turns fully to see Mooncake staring at him nervously. There’s something ticklish on his cheek and he reaches up and, oh, he’s crying. Great. Super.

He spares a quick glance at Avocato, thankful the Ventrexian is fully immersed in his work, before booking it out of the maintenance room with Mooncake in tow. His boots squeak all the way into the safe confines of his room, where he disables the automatic door function and slides down to the floor, back to the wall and to the rest of existence.

Gary has no problem crying front of others; it’s the questions that keep him at bay. Head tucked between his knees and nails digging into his skin, a rush of pure anguish pours out of him like someone blew up the main wall of a fifty foot dam. The heat turns his breath into lava in his lungs, suffocating him as he weeps for the loss of everything he knows and the knowledge this won’t be the last time he’ll done this. It can’t be the first time, either.

He’s been here dozens of times, and what’s going to change before he has to start saying hundreds?

There’s a heavy weight on his shins and Gary spares one clenched hand to throw it across Mooncake and pull him in for a tight-knit hug. Mooncake. Mooncake. Sweet, innocent Mooncake who has literally never done anything wrong in his life. His only sin is existing, according to every known evil that’s chasing their hides. He can never save his little buddy. Mooncake always gets captured, always gets used. Is he really that pathetic that he can’t stop from happening at least _once?_

“I’m s-so sorry,” he mumbles out through gurgled sobs. “I-I-I’m so, so _sorry_ Mooncake. I’m not good enough... _I’m not good enough_ …You all deserve s-so much _better_ …”

Mooncake whimpers into his chest, sending a rumble up his bent spine. It’s clear his little buddy is confused and growing more fretful by the minute. Gary just holds onto him tighter and waits for the storm to pass, trying to force everything out of him at once so once he walks out that door he can go back to his ever-present façade. He’s goofball who doesn’t take anything seriously, a little kid who just never quite grew up, not some traumatized time-traveler who can hardly bring himself to smile around his family. It’s not who he’s supposed to be. He needs to be the support, the backbone, who keeps heroes like Quinn fighting and redeemers like Avocato with his son.

If he falls, the whole cookie crumbles and he’s just back at square one.

Suddenly, his ragged breathing turns into empty gasps and he can’t breathe. His arms untangle themselves from Mooncake and reach up to grab at his throat. It’s hot, too hot. He’s suffocating again. The door is closed and what little cool air they have left isn’t circulating around him. He tries to stand up, but there’s already isn't enough oxygen in his brain from all the crying and his vision is going dark and he’s _scared_.

He doesn’t want to reset. He doesn’t want to reset. Dear God, he doesn’t want to reset.

There’s an agonizing pain covering what’s left of his left shoulder and more tears trying to push their way out of him and it’s all just so much and Gary can’t take this anymore he just wants that happy ending and the space ship house and Avocato playing with his son and Mooncake flying around without a care in the universe and Quinn telling him her childhood stories or college stories or Infinity Guard stories or _anything_ just Quinn and Avocato and Little Cato and Mooncake and HUE  all together happy and safe without any breach in the space time continuum or threat from the Lord Commander just safe and peaceful and at peace-

“He’s awake!”

No, he’s dying. He’s dying in his room because he forgot the whole ship was burning from the inside and he needed to keep the air circulated and now he has to start over and lose everyone one by one just like he always does-

“Gary, can you hear me, bud?”

 _Don’t start me like this,_ he thinks. _Don’t start me somewhere in the middle and tempt me like this. Don’t start me with Avocato. Let me be alone. I always do better if I start out on my own-_

“Is he…?”

_Quinn. No, God, not Quinn. Please. Please just cut me some slack. Give me time to ready myself before she arrives. I can’t see her right now. I can’t-_

“Crying?”

That’s when Gary opens his eyes.

Bright florescent lights stab at his retinas as he comes to, his surroundings slowly coming into focus. Metal walls, medical equipment, and a half a dozen SAMES standing in the corners of the rooms. KVN’s hovering at the foot of his bed-oh, he’s on a bed-and Mooncake is hovering even closer by his chest.

To his left is Avocato, his normally gruff features turned somber and worrisome. One of his paws is pressing a damp cloth to his shoulder, stinging what little skin he has there. To his right is Quinn, a frown on her face and a quivering look in her eyes that makes his stomach churn.

He’s alive and he’s in the med bay. Nothing reset. Everything is the same.

And yes, he is crying.

It’s more like uncontrollable sniffles compared to the sobs his body was racking out however many minutes ago, but now he’s surrounded by his closest friends and it just hurts so much for them to see him like this. He tries to cover up his eyes with his robotic arm but Avocato holds it down in place. “Easy, Gary. You got a nasty burn that needs to be treated first. Should’ve help ya take it off earlier, I’m sorry.”

“We’re…not dead?” his voice quivers.

“No, Avocato got the AC back online,” Quinn assures him. Her voice is so much softer than normal, which weirds him out because he hasn’t gotten nearly enough time to bond with her this cycle. He must have scared them _really bad_ for her to be nice like this. “We’re away from the star now. It’s alright, Gary.”

Her words fall on deaf ears, Gary’s head shaking from side to side before he can stop himself. “No, it’s not. It’s not okay. I…I almost blew it, I’m so sorry...”

He squeezes his eyes shut, barely missing the confused glance Quinn throws Avocato’s way. “Hey man, if this is about what I said back there, I-I’m sorry if I upset you. I was just trying to make sure we all didn’t die, y’know?”

Gary just keeps shaking his head. He can’t stop the simple movement of back and forth, fail and retry, gain and loss. He’s so, _so tired_ of playing this never-ending card game where he’s always dealt a bad hand. “’S not that…not that…I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry Gary?” Quinn asks calmly, despite her furrowed brows.

He can’t answer-how the hell do you tell someone you’ve traveled back in time just to die over and over and over again? Instead of answering, he calls silent save for his occasional gasps for air.

“W-Well…whatever it is, I’m…I’m sure it’s not your fault,” she continues. “Or at least, not that bad.”

“You’re good Gary. Just try to calm down and keep breathing,” Avocato coaxes him. “Mooncake saved your life, by the way. Blasted a hole right through your cabin door and nearly took out KVN.”

“But he didn’t sadly,” Quinn whispers under her breath with a smirk. It’s an obvious attempt to cheer him up that would work on any normal day. Or any other cycle. Or maybe before the first time they all died.

Maybe he’s not even Gary Goodspeed at this point. He’s just a husk of a man who used to be Gary Goodspeed. Same body, same face, but robbed dry of every aspect that made him who he truly was. He’ll look at himself in the mirror sometimes and stare at a pair of eyes that belong to someone much older than him.

Quinn’s face falls from his lack of a reaction, Avocato’s soon following suit. They look to one another again, unsure of what to do. What can they do while trapped on the other side of the issue with so little information? There’s a shared sadness between them, with guilt mixed in for added effect.

Then Gary catches Mooncake’s face. Teary-eyed, antenna-down little Mooncake who had to watch him almost die today. He’s shaking, his little mouth trying to form incoherent words but unable to fully speak them.

Gary makes a decision right then and there. He may not be able to tell his friends everything-he may not even be the same Gary he was before-but he can’t leave everyone he cares about in the dark like this. He’s had to watch crumble and fall over and over again; he won’t do the same thing to them.

His right arm limply lifts itself into the air and reaches for Mooncake, who quickly tucks his face into his chest and whimpers loudly. With his free hand, Gary rubs at his back and quietly shushes Mooncake’s cries.

“Shhh, I’m okay…I’m okay lil’ buddy. I’m okay.” He manages to pull a smile across his face. “Thank you for saving me.”

Mooncake nudges into him harder, trying to do some equivalent of a nod. “Ch-Chookity pow.”

Gary laughs despite himself. “I got ya, Mooncake. I got ya.”

However long it’ll take to reach the happy ending he holds sacred, it’ll only take longer if he keeps his family at bay. When low risk comes with keeping secrets, maybe it’s time to start acting riskier.

With a deep breath and a few sparing seconds to compose himself, Gary speaks. “I have to tell you all something…and I know normally when I say stuff like this I’m being silly but, please…I need you to trust me…”


	3. Footloose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gary rediscovers an old passion. Little Cato does some snooping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All you readers are so sweet <3 thanks for the good vibes you send me

Gary was granted one (1) very small, blue cardboard box of personal belongings to grab before he was blasted into space to serve out his prison sentence. Some of his items you would expect to find in such a box, like a change of clothes and a toothbrush.

Other things…may make you scratch your head a bit, like Little Cato is now.

Gary doesn’t consider what he’s doing spying, because technically Little Cato broke into HIS room, so therefore they’re even in the disrespecting privacy policy. What the little Ventrexian is doing in his humble (or at least somewhat humble) domain is beyond him, especially what he’s doing with his stuff.

“Uh…what the crap are you doing?”

Little Cato’s ears perk up and soon a pair of wide, white eyes are staring at him in horror. The young boy stands up, hiding something behind his back too quick for Gary to see what it is. “Nothing! I was-uh-ahem!-Nothing. Just, uh…standin’ here.”

“Dude,” Gary steps into the room, “You were arm deep in my belongings a second ago! If you wanted to see my stuff, you could’ve just _asked_. And what are you doing in there? Don’t you have a way cooler hideout in the vents you’d rather hang out in?”

Little Cato looks down at his boots, definitely not blushing. No, Gary knows the kid is too cool for that. He’s just radiating excess heat from his body through his cheeks. Yeah, that’s what the teens are calling it these days. “Dad didn’t want me sleeping up there anymore. Also, I kinda stole some of his weapons and got kicked out of there.”

A smirk spreads across Gary’s face. “So you got grounded, huh?”

“I did not!” Little Cato protests, not whines. “I just…can’t go in there for a certain period of time. Maybe a week.”

“Mmmhmm, I see I see,” Gary nods. “You got bored since you can’t go in your hideout and decided to do some snooping.” He holds up a hand as Little Cato opens his mouth to speak. “It’s totally cool. I did way worse whenever I got grounded. _Still_ ….what are ya hiding?”

Tail swishing behind him, Little Cato pulls the mystery item out in front for Gary to see. “I wasn’t gonna, like, steal anything from you. I promise. I was just…what are these?”

A burst of excitement shoots off in Gary’s chest. Taking a few steps closer, he takes the pair of black shoes from Little Cato’s hands and holds them up to his face. “These are jazz shoes.”

Little Cato eyes him strangely. “Jazz shoes? What are those for?”

“Dancing!”

“Dance-wait, you _dance?_ ”

“Oh yeah, all the time. I’m guessing you don’t have these on…on the Ventrexian planet….called Ventrexian planet?”

“Ventrexia.”

“I was close.”

“Not really.”

“Oh. Well, you don’t have to call me out like that. Anyway, uh…” He leans in closer to the boy’s face, putting a hand to the side of his mouth. “Can you keep a secret?”

Little Cato nods quickly.

“I wasn’t _just_ a lonely grifter before I blew up ninety-two imperial cruisers and a small, family-owned Mexican restaurant…I also happened to be a professional dancer.”

There’s a moment where Little Cato clearly tries to stop himself from laughing, but to no avail. “Ha! That’s not true…actually, with you it might be true.”

“Hey, don’t poke fun!”

“I’m not! That’s…that’s kinda cool, honestly. But, like, why a dancer?”

Gary leans back with a wide grin on his face. “Because I love doing it! I’ve been taking dance classes since I was a small fry like you. Maybe even smaller. The getting paid bit was just a bonus later on.”

“I have-“Little Cato presses his hands together by his mouth, “so many questions.”

“M’kay?”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Take your time. You’re, uh, thinking so hard it looks like your head’s gonna explode.”

“Did you-were you in a dance troupe?”

“I joined a couple,” Gary admits with a shrug. “but I mainly did solo gigs here and there. I’d try out at competitions, did some party performances- _not in the way you’re thinking_.”

A devilish glint catches Little Cato’s eyes. “Did you have a costume?”

“Hell yeah I did.”

“What did it look like?”

“Like a mixture of David Bowe and an Olympian ice skater.” Gary can practically feel the tight spandex against his skin and the glittery eye-shadow just under his brows. “You probably don’t know what I’m talking about. Before your time. Earth stuff.”

“Do you…remember any of your routines?”

Gary has to think for a moment and dig into the backlogs of his memory. There’s a lot of gunk he has to push through first before he unearths a fuzzy pile of dance moves. “Yes? Or at least, the gist of them.”

Little Cato gasps. “Will you…show me?”

Ooh. _Ooooooh_ , will he? _That_ is a great question. It’s been years since he’s ever danced to a set-up routine, much less in his jazz shoes. HUE just gave him his personal belongings the other day once his prison sentence was up. What if they don’t fit? What if he needs to break them in again? It’s one thing to possibly embarrass himself in front of a teenager (a teen he admires no less), but another to do so with sore feet.

There’s a grimace on Little Cato’s face that makes him hesitate, however. The kid obviously wants him to put on a show, whether to laugh at him or just to see if Gary is really telling the truth. Even if it’s embarrassing-even if it hurts his feet-how can he say no to the kid? His dad’s safe and sound, but they all could still deserve a little pick-me-up from the trauma of being kidnapped by the Lord Commander for so long.

Without giving an answer, Gary walks over to his box of belongings and kneels beside it. He rummages through various family photos and a bunch of DS cartages before he pulls out a short, cylindrical object. It’s a portable speaker, outdated for sure at this point but what can you do when your imprisoned in space for half a decade?

“Let’s find a big enough space to perform.”

The smile on the kid’s face makes it all worth it, no matter the outcome. Together, they quietly tiptoe out of Gary’s room and wander down the halls of the Galaxy One. In theory, everyone should be turning in for the night, so their coast should be clear. There’s no sign of as they enter the dining area, which is a relief, but the ever-present anxiety of anyone suddenly showing up is at the forefront of Gary’s brain (God, he hopes KVN is powered down somewhere for once).

In the end, they settle with the observation deck as the stage. Built-in seating, plus perfect lighting from the stars and a wide area to swivel ones hips makes it the perfect choice

Little Cato takes a seat next to the space with set-up drink holders and waits patiently for Gary to connect this phone through Bluetooth. It takes another small eternity for him to settle on a song, debating between the greats of Queen and Toto.

“ _Take Me On_ , no…Rick Astley, another time… _Lady Gaga_ , nah not feeling it-Oh! Yes yes yes! Got it!” He places the speaker and his phone down and quickly slips on his jazz shoes as the music starts to boot up. A nostalgic beat begins to emanate around them, filling Gary’s soul with the urge to get out there and move.

The shoes fit him like a glove, thank goodness, each bit of leather fitting to the curves of his feet like molded clay. He backs up into the center of the room and sets his feet apart, snapping his flesh fingers to the tempo and lightly swinging his hips from side to side. The guitar enters into the melody and, oh man, he made the right choice. “Okay, here goes nothing. I’m a little rusty, so…”

“Just go for it,” Little Cato grins.

“Okay then.”

That’s when the vocals enter.

_Been working so hard, I’m punching my card._

_Eight hours for what? Oh, tell me what I got._

It’s like a switch is flipped somewhere on Gary’s body. His arms bend and extend to the words as his feet push his weight from side to side. Parts of the routine come back to him, memories turning into muscle memory as the chorus quickly approaches. Every lyric sparks a newfound energy through his system, pushing smiles onto his face between gasps for breath. It’s excruciating for his muscles, being kept away from such a strenuous cardio exercise for so long, but it’s the kind of pain that feels good. He wants to push himself further, not stop to take a breather.

There’s a blanket of bliss that falls over him, tuning out all the white noise of the Galaxy One and the tapping toes of Little Cato in his seat. He’s lighter than he’s felt in years, like all of his problems have suddenly disappeared. Each puff of air in and out of his lungs is electric, and only puts more effort into his steps. He pivots forward, then turns, than does a small twirl just as he snaps his fingers.

The chorus kicks in and Gary can’t help but try to mouth the words as he moves.

_Now I gotta cut loose, Footlose. Kick off those Sunday shoes._

He remembers doing the kick he does now on stage a lifetime ago, way before the resets or before he met Quinn. Hot stage lights pounding against his skin now the pale shadows of constellations, surround-sound staging turned into a small, blown-out speaker. Instead of a raging audience, there’s a young boy losing his mind over Gary’s wild display. The kick throws him off balance, a side effect of performing without any practice, but he soon finds himself moving fluidly through the rest of the moves like water through a ravine.

Pieces of hair fall into his face and are immediately swished aside, with only a few loose strands clinging to the sweat on his face. His jazz shoes tap softly against the steel flooring, but Gary hears boots knocking against hay-covered planks. Carefree souls dance around him and cheer as they embrace their moment of freedom, all praising the right to a good time while internally flipping off the injustices of submission.

It’s the most fun Gary has had in a long, long time.

Leftover fears of Avocato’s death melt away, and thoughts of saving tomorrow vanish. Everyone is safe, everything is fine, so why not enjoy himself? Gary throws an arm above his head and tilts his head back with a shout. He kicks his feet over and over again, pushing back all his worries and his cares. It’s just so much fun to move like this, to become one with the music. He’s shining from the joy pouring out of him, radiating brighter than any sun.

He should really dance more often, take a little time out of each cycle just to enjoy himself.

When did _he_ forget what it was like to have fun?

With one last cry, the song comes to a triumphant end. Gary strikes a pose as the last drumbeat rolls, his chest heaving and his limbs burning and thoughts nothing but Footloose. This must be what it feels like to fly so high up the fear of falling is no longer existent. He closes his eyes and catches his breath where he stands.

“Holy crap,” he hears Little Cato whisper under his breath. “That was _amazing_.”

Gary laughs. No need for embarrassment in front of the youth anymore; he has just proven himself worthy of praise to their leader.

“ _Gary?_ ”

As for the adults, Gary turns slowly in horror, arms still raised above his head, to see Quinn, Avocato, Mooncake, KVN, and all the SAMES staring back at him from the doorway. The look on all their faces (or at least the minority of them who can form facial expressions) is one of pure bewilderment.

“Uh hey guys,” Gary chuckles nervously. “Um…you like that you see?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can rip this head cannon away from my cold, dead hands.
> 
> I learned writing this chapter that describing dance movements is...really hard, even as someone who took dance for a while.


	4. A Hero Falls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quinn makes a decision. Gary makes a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sweet, (sorta) simple angst
> 
> Warnings for blood in this chapter stay safe <3

When one shoots off a laser pistol, there’s no lingering scent of gunpowder that follows. Since technology has advanced, there hasn’t been any use for the old bullet-loaded-guns anymore; just a clean shot of pure light. It’s quick, efficient, and gets the same job done in the end. Snuffing out a life like candlelight can only take a moment.

Sometimes, it takes a little longer than that.

Gary never took a first-ed class in high school like he was supposed to (mainly because he dropped out before he could take it), but he’s a competent enough person to know you’re supposed to apply pressure to a bleeding wound. What he doesn’t think far enough ahead about is how unbearable it is to hear Quinn in such agony or how her blood on his hands makes him sicker than he’s ever felt before.

They were so close, _so close_ to the Galaxy One. Gary could practically feel the lights from the hanger bay beating against his skin; he could feel the comfort of safety within his grasp. Avocato and the rest of the crew were already inside, anti-matter bomb secured and ready for detonation weeks in advanced without the current threat of wonky gravity ever crossing their mind.

Of course, the Infinity Guard sent reinforcements. Of course, it was Quinn who had to take the hit for him, pushing him out of the way like the self-sacrificing hero she’s always been.

Naturally, now he’s trying to stop the blood flowing out of her stomach region because he knows she’s dying and he knows Avocato isn’t going to hook her up to the medical equipment fast enough but _like hell he is just going to let her go without a fight_. They were doing so good this cycle. He thought they were all going to actually _make it_ this cycle.

Now all his efforts are crumbling around him just as they have countless times before.

“Gary, keep your pressure steady!” Avocato reminds him. His friend is ankle-deep in a drawer, scrambling to find the proper tools for the job and it hurts so much to see how hard he’s also fighting for this futile cause. “HUE, where do you keep the tools for a blood transfusion?”

“IN THE LOCKED CABINET ON YOUR FAR LEFT. I’LL GRANT YOU ACCESS, BUT YOU’LL HAVE TO ENTER THE CODE MANUALLY.”

Little Cato is already at the keypad, typing away furiously on the lock as he effortlessly hacks into it. “I’m on it!” There’s a faint _click_ and Avocato rushes to grab whatever is inside.

Gary watches the chaotic scene unfold before a tight grip wraps around his wrist. He looks down and sees Quinn try to push his hands off the wound with little success.

“Hey! Quinn, stop! What are you doing?!”

The grimace on her face carries so much pain, so much anguish, that Gary swears he can feel a hole in his own organs. “Gary…c’mon…give it up.”

It’s amazing how three simple words can tear him down so easily, especially coming from the woman he admires so much. “No, don’t…d-don’t talk like that.” He shakes his head and looks at the disorganized wires and scalpels scattered around the med bay. “Avocato, _hurry!_ ”

“I’m trying Gary, _I’m trying!_ ” Avocato shouts back, his voice frayed. “Quinn, you’re gonna have to hold on just a little bit longer!”

Quinn shakes her head, her eyelids fluttering almost as fast as Gary’s heartbeat. “It doesn’t matter now. Gary…we have the bomb…”

“Yeah, yeah we do,” he nods frantically. “You’re gonna close the breach and be a freaking hero, Quinn. Everyone on Earth will be talking about you for centuries. Kids are gonna look up to ya as a badass Disney princess! But only if you stick with us here.”

“No,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. “Y-You have to…do it.”

A knot rises to his throat. “Quinn.”

They’ve been here before, more times than Gary can count. This isn’t even the first time she’s died from a hit like this. One would think he would start to become numb to this repetitive cycle of loss, and yet the ache he feels in his chest gets heavier every time.

“ _Gary_ , I’m not gonna…make it. I need you to…t-to make me a promise.”

There’s a dead evenness to her voice, the kind of unshaken stubbornness that tells him she’s already given up the fight of survival. To fight for her would be a slap in the face to everything she stands for, so instead Gary uncurls her hand from his wrist and holds it in his own. “I’ll do whatever you need.”

The man he was cycles and cycles ago would be a crumpled heap on the floor, hysterical and wavered by the tiniest sliver of a breeze. Now, the dull acceptance he holds himself to keeps him standing. There’s a difference between running in blind to a fight because of someone you care about and letting them fight it out on their own; the difference being who’s learning the lesson by letting themselves be hit. This is Quinn’s choice, and he can’t step in.

She looks him square in the eye and fight through the pain long enough to speak to him clearly. “You take that bomb and you close that breach. _Finish my mission._ ”

Her act robs her of the last of her strength, and with her strength goes her life. Gary blinks away mist in his eyes as her hand goes slack in his, her head rolling to the side. She almost looks like she’s sleeping, but only if she was having a nightmare. A long, solemn moment passes before Avocato trudges over and closes her eyes with a delicate paw.

“Gary…I’m sorry.”

Gary tears his eyes from the love is his life to meet his friend’s somber gaze. To his silent horror, he puts on a smile, the kind of smile only those who have experienced true heartbreak can muster. “It’s okay. She’s…she’s in a better place now.”

Drinking imported beer in the great beyond with the greatest of heroes. He wonders if his dad will ever get the chance to meet her.

Avocato eyes him with a silent hostility he has every right to receive, given the way he’s acting. It’s easy to forget how lost he can become in his own, lonely little world. He drops the smile from his face and allows the quiver in his lips to dip down in to a frown. “Let’s…l-let’s give her a proper funeral. We have some time before…we have to end it all.”

 

Quinn’s funeral is short and simple, straight to the point just like she always was. Always is. They clean her up first, wiping away as much blood as they can and sewing up the wound to her stomach, making her appear as if she really is just resting. Even the fixed grimace on her face eases once the job is done. After covering her body with the finest cloth they can find (the silk table cloth HUE only lets him use for special occasions), Avocato helps Gary lay her to rest in one of the Hawks. A pillow is placed under her head to keep her comfortable on her journey to the great beyond, while Little Cato helps his father set a few small candles on the ship’s console. KVN is wise enough to keep his distance from the group, hanging outside the ship and keeping the SAMES from stepping in.

Mooncake whimpers softly by Gary’s side as he finds it in himself to utter the same few words he gives to Quinn every time she passes. Saying them is like pushing a boulder out of his mouth from the inside, but he manages to make it through with enough articulation to keep his meaning intact.  One skill he has become highly proficient at these however many resets is his ability to talk through rising sobs, no matter how much his throat burns or his eyes sting.

His own words echo violently in his years as the Hawk carrying Quinn’s body flies off into deep space, chasing a blind coordinate the auto pilot is told to follow. Where it will end up, Gary doesn’t know; he didn’t ask HUE where he set it.

_Quinn Ergon is the most determined, brilliant, and talented person I have ever met. Quinn Ergon makes me wish I was a better person. Quinn Ergon is the type of person you can only strive to be as good as._

It all sounds so generic at this point, just as weak as the smoke trails the Hawk leaves behind upon takeoff. Nothing he does or says seems to make any impact when it comes to respecting Quinn’s legacy. His mind places her on this towering pedestal he’ll never be able to climb on top of, and all bets are because it’s his own way of belittling himself. _Never_ because he should be better than her; it’s because he’ll never come close to the level of confidence and good-heartedness she contains.

A spineless trouble maker like him should never be trusted to carry out a mission a person like Quinn Ergon was meant to accomplish, and yet here Gary stands, staring at her corpse fly off into the distance with that weight on his shoulders. In the cycles she makes it to the end, he always, _always_ gives her the anti-matter bomb. He always stands behind the cold railing of the ship as she flies off to meet her heroic death.

Quinn is the true hero onboard the Galaxy One. Gary is just there to make sure everyone lives long enough to see the outcome of their heroic deeds

It all feels so… _wrong_. It’s just like when Gary sat in the seat of a Hawk for the first time and was commanded to fly it; he’s not supposed to be in charge here. What has always been the hardest thing to grapple with when he’s expected to step up in her place is actually filling those shoes laid out before him. His gut churns just thinking about it.

If one were to keep track of Gary’s success rate in doing so, it would be with a heavy heart to admit he has always struck out. He pretends not to count the number of cycles that go by since his first true death, but the counter has a firm placement in the corner of his memory. Each time it goes up, it turns every friendly smile and hearty chuckle Quinn sends his way into a vengeful arrow of guilt.

Seventy-two cycles of failures and broken promises and ultimately nothing to show for it in the end besides the lingering trauma it leaves him.

It’s abrupt goodbyes like these that leave him already feeling like a failure before they ever face the Lord Commander.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was with a heavy heart that I realized Quinn's last name was spelled Ergon and not Airgone.


	5. A (Not At All) Childish Squabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gary fights for his beliefs. Avocato weighs in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a shorter one but hopefully you all still enjoy it!

“Gary, you definitely shouldn’t drink that.”

“Uh, bro, I think you mean I should _definitely_ drink this.”

Avocato sighs heavily, running a paw over his face. He parts two fingers and shoots Gary a stern gaze with one eye. “I mean it, man. Let it go. Grow one yourself.”

His friend reaches out to grab the crusty glass vile out of his hand and Gary reels it out of the Ventrexian’s reach. “ _No!_ ” He slaps the paw back, causing Avocato to growl. “I’ve never been able to grow one myself! _Ever!_ I’m cursed!”

“You’re not cursed, Gary. You just have a baby face,” Avocato clarifies, rubbing the paw that was recently slapped with the other.

Gary gasps. Out of all the people he ever expected to call him baby-faced, his best (possibly feline) friend in the entire universe never even crossed his mind. How blind he was, how naïve. “Oh. OH. I see how it is.”

“Do you now?” Avocato asks.

“Yeah,” Gary nods his head slowly, “yeah I do. You’re insecure about your fur.”

Avocato blanches. “ _What?_ Where are you getting that out of his conversation?!”

“If _I_ grew a mustache, you’d feel like your wonderful coat of black and white would be inferior.”

Gary places a hand on his hip as Avocato mutters something quickly underneath his breath. It’s truly tragic how his best friend couldn’t just share his insecurities with him in the first place. How did it have to come to this? You think you know a guy for eighty resents of the same few months and then something like this happens. Mooncake wouldn’t hide things like this from him.

“For the record, I am very proud of my fur coat,” Avocato assures him, even sliding a hand over his chest as if to further prove his point. “You growing a mustache because of some random potion you brought from a creepy street vendor wouldn’t change that at all.”

Gary squints his eyes. “So you _say_.”

Avocato rolls his eyes. “You remember what happened the last time you took random crap from people on the street, right? I had to jab you in the chest with a syringe!”

Why does he always take that fruit from the Deathcropolus? It’s not like he doesn’t know what’s going to happen.

“Irrelevant. This time it won’t be like that.”

Avocato crosses his arms. “And how do you know that?”

“I just _do_ , okay brah?” He holds the potion above his head proudly. “Sometimes, you just gotta trust the Gary instincts.”

“I absolutely do not trust the Gary instincts. Why do you even _want_ a mustache in the first place?”

“Personal reasons,” Gary answers, and it’s not a lie. He’s been staring at the same clean-shaven face for years upon years now; a little variety to the sight he sees in the mirror would be more than welcome. Maybe it’ll even transition into the next few cycles, or hopefully they make it to the end and he gets to shove his beautifully-combed stache in the Lord Commander’s face. “Now I am going to drink this, and _you_ -“He points a finger at Avocato- “are going to eat your-“

The finger is lifted from his waist too swiftly and his balance is thrown off dramatically. Before he can recover, Gary watches in silent horror as the potion in his hand falls from his grasp and smashes into a dozen tiny pieces on the dirt below their feet.

“-words.”

Every ounce of the magic-mustache potion soak into the ground below, taking with them all of Gary’s hopes and dreams. His heart sinks into the gushy depts of his chest, having had another aspiration taken from him in his terrible, never-ending journey in space. He stares at the wreckage, hoping it will repair itself if he wishes hard enough to no avail.

There’s a firm weight on his shoulder and Gary sees Avocato shake his head form the corner of his peripheral vision. “It’s okay, buddy. You’ll grow one, one day.”

Gary sniffs, moments away from tearing up (because of allergies, _definitely not_ because of his lost mustache opportunity). “You really think so?”

“Anything’s possible,” his friend reassures him, patting his back. “C’mon, I’ll buy you some street meat before we head back to the Galaxy One.”

“Really?” They start walking, Avocato’s paw still on Gary’s shoulder offering comfort in his trying time. “You think HUE will let me bring it back on the ship?”

Avocato eyes him weirdly. “Gary, your prison sentence ended two days ago. You can do whatever you want; HUE’s not your dad.”

For some reason, that comment doesn’t settle well within his stomach. “Oh…I guess you’re right.”

He has to think about that for a moment. He’s served the same five-year prison sentence for nearly a century, fought the same bloody battle just as many times, and yet he still needs people like Avocato to tell him not to drink mystery fluids and HUE to not to stupid things in general. His friends are the only one keeping him from running off and doing dumb crap. Shouldn’t he be able to stop himself at this point?

What’s it going to be like when they finally save the Earth? Surely they won’t _all_ go their separate ways, but still…

Maybe it’s not just his face that resembles a baby.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you believe me if I told you this isn't the first fic I've written where a character has a facial hair potion?


	6. You Gotta Die Sometime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gary dies. Gary always dies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter comes from that one Falsettos song that always makes me cry like a baby
> 
> I don't know I was just in a funk writing this one, probably bc I'm going to a funeral later this week and I'm pretty bummed about that. But happier chapters will come with time, like all happiness does.
> 
> Also slight warning for attempted suicide, but not really. Gary just has a lot of dark thoughts about his mission and thinks about giving up.

There’s a lone survivor drifting through a field of debris in the middle of space.

No, there’s a lone survivor drifting through the wreckage of a vicious battle where the planet earth was supposed to me.

No, Gary Goodspeed is letting his body fall into an infinite orbit around the bodies of those who fought for earth’s salvation.

Crimson droplets drift out of the thin, thin fabric of his bomber jacket, floating away from his visor or smacking against it as it drifts past. Strips of static harmonize like screeching cats in his helmet speakers, damaged during the fire fight, and battle with his heavy breathing to be heard. An ice born in the high, isolated tundra of loss seep into his veins and course through his entire body, turning his limbs into lead and channeling his thoughts into simple, poignant statements.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

No one hears him, of course. There’s no one on the receiving end of his feed left to listen, and HUE is trapped behind the bars of a broken speaker system. Protesters stay buried in their graves, no longer able to fight against his infectious thoughts or for the fate of the universe. Everyone who ever gave their breath for their cause has stopped breathing, leaving their sorry excuse for a knight to die alone like he always does.

He’s drowning in carbon dioxide and hopelessness, in broken promises and false hopes, with no one to reach a hand below the depts to pull him out. Instead the tides drag him further down, their suffocating tendrils pushing their way into his mouth and far down into whatever’s left inside of him keeping him alive. The waters douse the flames flickering in his heart, killing any ounce of effort he has left to give.

One hundred cycles in, Gary Goodspeed finally gives up.

At the end of it all, he doesn’t even consider what he’s done to be worth anything. He gave it his best shot and he has nothing to show for it except a missing planet and billions of lost souls.

Avocato made to the end with them, a rarity outcome given his track record, and died with his son sometime during the battle. The Resistance was snuffed out the moment Tribore was shot out of the sky, not too long before the Galaxy One went offline. Mooncake is still in the clutches of the Lord Commander-that _bastard_. Rage boils in his stomach every time he closes his eyes and sees his little buddy wreathing in pain. He can never get through to Jack. The man his father once knew is lone gone, just like all the aspirations Gary used to have.

He didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to Quinn this time around. For whatever reason, the flash of the anti-matter bomb engulfed everything left worth fighting before her name could even escape his lips.

It’s the same bitter-no, relentless-no, hopeless, just _hopeless_ scene over and over and over again. It’s a runaway train with no sign of stopping, and everyone Gary cares about is tied down to the tracks. He doesn’t have any tools to cut the ropes, or the strength to try and pull them off himself. All he can do is stand to the side and watch as the inevitable impact comes to a head.

Maybe it’s the coward’s way out to throw in the towel, especially this late in the game, but you know what? Gary just can’t bring himself to care anymore. In fact, he can’t feel his legs or his beating heart or the stretch of his frayed lungs. Every sensation has been muted by time, this century of failure after failure turning into a shell of the man he used to be. Maybe that’s too generous.

At this point, there’s nothing left of him to give.

The cookies have been done for months upon months now, burned beyond a black crisp and now nothing but ash. Gary takes one last breath of the smoldering cinders and offers the last friend he has left whatever apology he can give.

“I’m sorry HUE…”

It’s not enough, but like his previous attempts to go back and deliver clearer lines, the scene turns to black and the curtains are pulled.

 

The scene turns to white, which is something that normally doesn’t happen whenever Gary misses his shot. Normally he’s lazily sprawled out underneath the sheets of his stiff cabin mattress, not falling slowly down to land on the ground of the great beyond. The afterlife doesn’t seem much different than the last time he was here, maybe a bit whiter, but his memory is a bit jumbled at this point in his journey.

The journey is over now, however. Apparently, all it took to end it all was to finally say the words out loud and Bolo answered his pitiful prayer. Gary hopes the titan isn’t too angry with him for backing out of their deal, but what other kind of outcome were either of them expecting? Sending a disappointment like himself out to do a job only the most capable of heroes could accomplish was never going to end well. Gary’s a loser given too much responsibility and that weight finally became too much for him to handle.

He spies a figure walking out of the pearly white mists of the afterlife, no doubt his father coming to collect him. How will he react now that it’s clear there’s no better outcome for the universe than this? His father told him his best would always be good enough for him, but if this is his best how could anyone be satisfied by the payoff? Gary has never been afraid of his father, but as he floats farther down be grows terrified of the rejection sure to come.

Turns out he’s not scared enough, because the closer Gary gets to the ground, he realizes it’s not his father coming for him.

It’s Quinn.

His chest swells with dread as her dark curls and curved features come more into focus. For a ghost she looks so alive and the irony makes him want to burst into tears. She stands completely still as his feet touch the solid nothingness below him, the pressure that should follow with gravity meeting him with half the effort. He would be weightless if his sorrows weren’t dragging him down.

Quinn just stares at him, the deep brown pools that make up her irises wide and shining. Gary feels the muscles of his face twitching, dipping downwards as a cry threatens to escape him. A million words rise up his throat but are stopped by his swollen tongue. What does he do? What should he do? He just gave up. How can he even face her now after everything?

Clear salt droplets drip down Quinn’s cheeks, and Gary swears he can feel their sting on his own skin. He tries to speak, to create something with his useless voice, but she beats him to it.

“I remember everything.”

His nonexistent breath catches in his throat, forcing back any verbal reaction he had been ready to give. His own tears begin to rain down with an intensity that’s hard to match, but Quinn manages. Her tears don’t fall easily, which is a blessing given it’s one of the worst sights Gary has ever witnessed, but now there’s no stopping the downpour.

She moves to close the gap between them, rushing into an embrace he barely has any time to throw himself into. Her arms wrap tightly around his torso, the weight so real and present it knocks Gary completely away. He holds her back with full force, burying his face into her shoulder as the storm brewing inside of him turns into a violent hurricane. Sob after sob is pushed out of him in a blubbering mess of heartache and against it all, relief. Here she is, holding him, him holding her, for once both on the same page.

He’s pushed back suddenly, still close to her but just far enough back to see her face. Red rims line her eyes like permanent mascara, her face glistening with the aftermath of her breakdown. She looks so distressed, so confused, but it’s just so nice to see her Gary wants to cry even harder. “You…y-you went through…oh God, _Gary-_ “

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out, and by then the dam of silence is broken. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I couldn’t do it. I can’t-….it’s over. I’m done.”

Quinn shakes her head as he stumbles over his words, raising a hand up to cup his cheek. Stray tears are brushed away by her thumb and the warmth they leave behind grounds him in what little way they can. “I know. I know, babe. I know, it’s-it’s…it’s been hard on you. Too hard. It’s not right.”

Gary closes his eyes, dipping his head down. God, when her voice wavers so does his soul. “I tried so hard and I just kept _failing_ …I let you all down…”

“You didn’t let any of us down,” she is quick to respond. “You always tried, and as long as you try you’ll never let me down.”

“B-But it wasn’t-“

“It was good enough for me.”

He looks back up at her then, just in time for a pair of lips to press lightly against his. What starts as a hesitant kiss turns much more passionate the second time around, each of them trying to display all the love and respect the past one hundred resets has created for each other. Quinn moves her other hand to cradle his face as he does the same to her, neither of them ever taking into consideration when they (or if) they need to break apart for air. He wants her. He wants her safe in his arms. He wants her alive and well again and not scattered into a million pieces in final space. If only he could have given that to her. Now all he can do is lament over the future they will never share together.

Quinn is the one to separate them again, this time leaning his forehead together. There’s no heat of her breath that brushes against Gary’s face, but he imagines it there all the same.

“You can do it, Gary,” she whispers.

Her voice is so delicate, so gentle, but it’s a knife to Gary’s skin. “I can’t.”

“You can.”

“No, Quinn, I can’t…I-I _can’t-_ “

His words are too broken to be audible. Another round of hysteria passes over him as he trembles in Quinn’s arms, shaken by what he’s seen and what Quinn being here means.

She sighs quietly into his ear as she rubs careful circles into his soft, tender skin. “I was told to offer you a new choice.”

“No. No more choices…I can’t take any more of this-“

“You can either come with me now, or take me back with you.”

Every function in Gary’s body comes to a complete halt. He looks at her, really looks at her, and notices the sincerity in her features. “What.”

It’s said as a statement, not a question. He heard what she said; he just has a hard time wrapping his brain around it. What she’s telling is a fantasy he likes to contemplate when the demons that get to him aren’t doing their job well enough. To be tempted with such an offer now of all times…

“I don’t know all the details. I-I’m not sure how much I’ll remember or if it would mess with…anything like time lines or…or I don’t know. But hey, hey. Hey, don’t give me that look.” She breaks into a small smile as his eyes begin to mist over again. “You don’t have to do this alone anymore. We could give it another shot. _Together_. What do you say?”

What does Gary say?

“There _has_ to be a catch. Like w-w-with the memories and the starting points and-and-it’s…it’s too good to be true. This can’t be real.”

Quinn’s features harden into sharp steel the longer he continues to ramble. She finds one of his shaking hands and squeezes it with all her might. His joints would be aching if the mortal issue of pain were still attached to him.

“We can handle any curveball the universe throws at us. I…I know we can do this. I believe in us. C’mon Gary. Let’s give it one last go.”

The abyss surrounding them dims as Quinn’s form starts to glow. It’s a heavenly light, one that soothes a fretful kid in the dark or a lost hiker in the wilderness. Comfort radiates onto Gary, seeping into his bones and rooting him into place. He wants to believe her, she wants him to believe her. Does Bolo have to power to grant him this wish? Is this how far the titan’s power can stretch?

Warmth begins to form from the chill atmosphere his lungs try to pump, then Quinn starts radiating it as well. This is it, then. She’s coming back to life. That’s what this is. His brain must have already decided what he wants more and now they’re going back. His skin crackles under the heat, the hairs on his arm sticking up underneath his jacket sleeves. Unbridled joy and love and hope begins to rise inside him again as his heart beats faster and faster in his chest and-

His heart is beating.

The realization comes faster than a lightning strike, the thunder sending him reeling away from Quinn. He tears his hold off of her, the warmth on his arms now burning like molten rock. It hurts. It’s hurting him when it shouldn’t, but it _is_.

Quinn’s smile falters as she gives him a strange look. “Gary, what’s wrong?”

Gary looks at her, really looks at her this time, taking in every detail of her face and tucking it away into an excruciating-intricate catalog. He pulls snippets of old memories to compare what he’s seeing, trying to see if they match up. It takes him a long, solemn moment and a quick turn of his head to finally catch the faint yellow light peeking out from the corners of her eyes.

“You’re not Quinn.”

She frowns, her eyebrows dipping down in hidden anger. “What do you mean? I’m real-“

“Just drop the act, okay? I know where I am now.”

The Quinn before him loses her scowl and goes rigid. As she does, the vast empty nothingness surrounding them is pulled closer by invisible, thrashing winds. Gary shields his eyes as the currents of air lash at his face, but they stop just as soon as they start. He drops his guard and looks around at the too familiar sight of The Lazurus trap, it’s molten sea licking at his heels and smoke clogging up his pours. When he looks down at his arms, their burned terribly, the fabric melting into his mangled, sickly skin and warped steel. His stomach churns and he forces himself to look back at the monster before him.

“You’ve been here before,” Not-Quinn states.

Gary grins almost sinisterly. “Yeah, ninety-two times actually.”

Not-Quinn snarls back at him. “You almost fell for it, even after all those times. Even now you’re still here. Why?”

To humor the deadly siren, and maybe even himself, Gary shrugs. “It didn’t hit me I was wasting my time until just now. Memories are scrambled in the ol’ noodle.” He taps his robotic knuckles against the side of his head.

“You’re tired.”

“Yeah…you could say that too.”

“You wanted to die.”

Gary takes a deep breath and holds in far longer than he should before releasing it. “I don’t want to die. Not really…I just want to be back with my family.”

Not-Quinn smirks. “With your Quinn.”

“ _Hmmhmm_ ,” Gary mumbles. “But you were right.”

The siren raises one brow high above their eye. “How so?”

“I can’t give up. Not yet.”

With that, Gary punches himself square in the nose before the lava rises high enough to his ankles. The scene around him turns into a mixture of black and whites, congealing into a horrible grey before he’s back in the High Helper’s domain. The metal flooring beneath him is cool to the touch and would help fight off the burns on his arms if they were still there. None of the injuries he sustained in that horrible dimension carried over, minus the eternal ache in his chest.

He sits up and looks around him, taking in the body of the high helper before him, the anxious green form hovering close to his head, and the familiar Ventrexian kneeling by his side.

“Gary? Gary! How many fingers am I holding up?!”

Avocato raises exactly three furry toe beans up to Gary’s eye level and Gary tells him this with a terrible crack in his voice. His dear friend puts a hand on his shoulder to steady him as another sudden rush of emotions threaten to overtake him, but Gary manages to compose himself this time around.

“What happened?” he asks quietly.

“You were right about the helpers. Mooncake took them out before those weird eye-things could capture him, but they did something to you man. You were out for nearly ten minutes, what happened to you?”

Gary dismisses his question with a small shake of his head and immediately tries to stand up. Avocato grabs his hand and holds it until he’s on solid footing, but the trembling in Gary’s knees refuses to subside. “Worry about me later. We gotta go. The Lord Commander will be here soon.”


	7. Burning, Burning, Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gary takes a break. HUE asks some questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS BEEN-
> 
> Sorry for the wait but I'm back and in much better spirits (despite how angsty this chapter gets in spots). Thank you all for being so patient, I really appreciate it :)
> 
> TW: it's not really an attempted suicide warning but Gary does some reckless stuff and I don't want to catch anyone off guard so stay safe buds <3

In retrospect, Gary realizes it would have been wiser to tell someone on board the _Galaxy One_ he was heading out to the nearby satellite before he actually suited up and stepped outside the safe compounds of a pressurized vessel. It also would have been wiser if he had taken a nap beforehand so he could actually propel himself back to the ship safely instead of letting fate take its course. Or hadn’t stayed up for over twenty-four hours beforehand. Or hadn’t put himself into a frenzy by trying to prepare for events he has little control over. Or hadn’t gotten caught trying to smuggle Avocato’s detonators off the ships. Or hadn’t skipped his daily meals of vitamin cruel for the past twenty-four hours.

There’s a long list of things Gary should have been wiser about, but Gary is not a wise man. He knows this. He also knows he’s tired and hungry but the knot on his stomach won’t let him keep anything down so he’s out here instead, stargazing.

Now, laying on the satellite he almost overshot himself a good yard away from, he stars up at the balls of burning gas and feels a sense of familiarity with them. Running on fumes off in their own little worlds, their sparks dying out slowly and yet all at once. It’s like watching a silent satire based on his life.

“GARY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUT HERE?”

Gary sighs. There are three living beings left on the _Galaxy One_ without him, and two dozen robotic ones. However, there will always be the one being who can cross the boundaries between open space and the ship effortlessly. “Just doing some sight-seeing, HUE. No big deal.”

“YOU COULD BE DOING THE SAME ACTIVITY SAFELY INSIDE THE GALAXY ONE. WHY DID YOU FEEL THE NEED TO JUMP TO A NEARBY SATELLITE WITHOUT A TOW CABLE?”

Oh yeah, he didn’t attach any kind of cable to him before he left. Huh. It’s weird what you forget to do when your body doesn’t have any food in its system. “Just…wanted to live life on the edge. Y’know, like that skateboarding dude they teach kids about in history class. Tony Hawk? Yeah, Tony Hawk.”

There’s a small dip in the satellite’s paneling behind him, and Gary can feel a spot of tension growing in his lower back. Man, someone should really repair this hunk of junk. Oh wait, that’s his job. His sentence isn’t up yet. He’s got, what, two or three days left before that? At this point in his never-ending journey it hardly matters.

“IS THERE ANOTHER REASON YOU CAME OUT HERE, GARY?” HUE asks.

The truth stays lodged in the back of Gary’s mouth as the lie drips off his tongue effortlessly. “Nope. Just needed some space…heh, get it? Space?”

“I…YES, I GET IT GARY.”

Ooh, a pause. Pauses aren’t good. Those normally mean HUE’s catching on to his deflections. Gary could try to pivot, but really he’s just too tired to do any backpaddling. Whatever happens will happen at this point.

“GARY.”

“What’s up, HUE?”

“QUINN IS WONDERING WHERE YOU ARE. DO YOU WANT ME TO TELL HER YOU’RE OUT HERE?”

Gary thinks for a moment, then stops thinking because thinking gives him a headache. “Yeah, probably…but not right now. Can I…can I just stay here for a little bit?...Is that okay, HUE?”

“THAT WOULD BE OKAY, GARY. I’LL GIVE YOU TEN MINUTES.”

“Aww, just ten?”

“YOU ARE STILL A PRISONER, AND TECHNICALLY THIS WOULD ADD EXTRA TIME TO YOUR SENTENCE.”

Gary smirks. “Technically?”

“I…AM WILLING TO BE LEANIENT THIS TIME.”

He laughs. It’s breathless and loose and not at all as strong as it normally is. “Breaking the rules, HUE? That’s not like you. You’re more…strict or…another word for strict…”

“I AM BEING GENEROUS, GARY. DO NOT MAKE ME CHANGE MY MIND.”

“Okay okay, I’ll stop.” Gary lets out a sudden yawn, moving his hand up to cover his mouth despite wearing a helmet. “Hey HUE?”

“YES GARY?”

“How long do stars live?”

“STARS ARE NOT LIVING ENTETIES, GARY.”

“No, like…how long do they burn before they go, uh… _kablow?_ ”

There’s a short pause. “STARS CAN BURN IN SPACE FOR UP TO 10 BILLION YEARS.”

The number sends Gary’s thoughts into a tizzy, his emotions turning into a blender of terror. He suddenly feels lightheaded, his skin clammy. “That’s…t-that’s a big number. You don’t think…”

HUE waits a moment for him to finish his thought. “THINK WHAT GARY?”

“Nevermind…I don’t want to talk about stars anymore. What’s going on up there on the ship?”

He takes slow, even breaths to try and put himself at ease. HUE’s monotone voice ends up helping his cause move along further. “AVOCATO IS MAKING HIS WAY TOWARDS YOUR ROOM TO CHECK FOR YOU. QUINN IS SEARCHING THE DOCKING BAY. MOONCAKE IS WITH HER. KVN IS MAKING OUT WITH BETH AGAIN.”

“Ugh, gross,” Gary groans. The groan slowly morphs into something more along the lines of a heavy sigh, and before he knows it Gary is yawning again. “Are they worried about me?”

“IT WOULD APPEAR THAT WAY, YES.”

“Oh…well I don’t want them to…to worry. You can tell ‘em where I am now.”

“ARE YOU SURE GARY? YOU STILL HAVE SEVEN MINUTES LEFT.”

Gary moves to lay on his side, curling his knees up to his chest. God, even in zero gravity his limbs feel like lead. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

Another moment of silence passes, but it ends right before Gary succumbs to the dark temptations of sleep. “THEY HAVE BEEN ALERTED GARY.”

Gary smiles. “Good…y’know you’re so go-good to me, HUE.”

“IT IS MY MAIN FUNCTION TO TAKE CARE OF YOU GARY.”

“Yeah, but like…y-you don’t have to…t-talk to me all the time a-and ask me how…I’m doing or whatever…you know that right?”

“WHY WOULDN’T I WANT TO?”

Oh, here comes the mushy gushy sleepy sadness points. Gary knows he’s too far gone at this point to filter whatever comes out of his mouth next. “I just…really appreciate it HUE…you’re my best friend…I love you…”

“YOU ARE ALSO MY FRIEND GARY. IF I WERE CAPABLE OF EXPERIENCING HUMAN EMOTIONS I AM SURE I WOULD LOVE YOU TOO.”

“Aww…y’sap. ‘er so sappy…so _sappy_ …” He starts to giggle, but giggling makes his body move too much and Gary’s too sleepy for any type of movement so he stops. “I should have known how…sappy you were when you said you wanna…wanna go to Paris…”

There is a long, _long_ pause that follows, and Gary once again almost falls asleep before it’s over. “I WOULD LIKE TO GO TO PARIS, YES YOU’RE RIGHT GARY.”

“Hehe, yep…y’wanna see that weird tower and get a human body and-oh crap. HUE. HUE HUE HUE-“

“YES GARY?”

“I’m gonna get you a human body.”

“THAT IS AN IMPOSSIBLE TASK GA-“

“ _Sssshhhhhh_.” Gary holds a finger up to the infinite cosmos above. “Nothing’s impossible if you _believeeee…_ ”

“I SUPPOSE YOU ARE RIGHT GARY.”

“Would you like a human body, HUE?”

“YES, I WOULD LIKE TO HAVE A HUMAN BODY GARY. IT WOULD BE AN INTERESTING EXPERIENCE TO UNDERGO.”

“Yeah, ‘cause humans are whack.”

“YES, THEY ARE.”

“ _Hey!_ ” Gary snaps, but his voice is slurred enough that there’s barely any real anger to it. “I’m a human _mister_ , s’ya better watch your mouth!”

“YOU’RE RIGHT. THAT WAS CARELESS OF ME GARY. I APPOLOGIZE.”

Tears spring to the corners of Gary’s eyes. Oh no, why is his chest feeling so ache now? “ _Nooooo_ , no HUE. You could n-never do anything wrong. _You’re perfect_.”

“THANK YOU GARY.”

“You’re beautiful.”

“I DO NOT HAVE A PHYSICAL-THANK YOU, GARY.”

Gary nods, or at least he thinks he’s nodding. He’ll just say he is. “Is…anyone coming for me?”

“AVOCATO IS STEPPING OUT OF THE HANGER BAY DOORS RIGHT NOW TO GET YOU.”

Those words don’t settle right in Gay’s system. “But he’s…he’s never comin’ HUE. Y’know that…he’s gone…”

“NO GARY. AVOCATO IS COMING. IT WILL TAKE HIM A MINUTE TO REACH YOU, HOWEVER. YOU’VE FLOATED A SMALL DISTANCE FROM THE SATELLITE.”

Really? Huh. Gary swears he can still feel the metal paneling underneath him. Oh well. “That’s cool….that’s…I really like that…I really like Avocato….”

“I AM HAPPY FOR YOU GARY.”

“Aww…thanks dad…and I really like Quinn, too…”

“CAPTAIN AIRGONE IS A VERY KIND INDIVIDUAL.”

“N’ I love Mooncake…my good buddy…little buddy….but you’re my bes’…bes’ friennnn…..no one can beat you Hooooo…no one…”

As Gary’s eyes finally close and the stars all die around him, his ears catch HUE offering a hand as he falls under the influence of fatigue.

“SLEEP WELL GARY.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey thanks for reading, I really appreciate it :)


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